


Sometimes, the Guy That Sells the Bootlegged Liquor is There For You

by ITookTheOneLessTravelled



Series: Snapshots: St. Trinian's Goes International [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, St Trinian's (2007 2009), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, I am so so so sorry for this, Multi, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ITookTheOneLessTravelled/pseuds/ITookTheOneLessTravelled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Coulson told her that they had finally caught the guy that was selling their latest alien bad guy weapons, she hardly expected them to turn up with Flash Harry. Thank God that Darcy is good at improvising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes, the Guy That Sells the Bootlegged Liquor is There For You

**Author's Note:**

> I am sooooo soooo sooo very sorry for this.

“We’ve caught a guy who was helping them smuggle weaponry,” Coulson said as he walked by. “But from what we’ve been able to glean, he had no idea what he was really a part of. Interrogation room four, if you’re interested.”

Darcy stood up from her seat and called a thank you to Coulson over her shoulder and darted down the hall to interrogation room four. Clint was in there with an unkempt yet attractive man with a five-o’clock shadow and long hair and a British accent. 

He was also noticeably recognizable as Flash Harry. It seemed that her past at St. Trinian’s couldn’t help but catch up to her. And she preferred it that way. 

Darcy opened the door before Hill realized what she was doing and slipped inside. Clint, who had been pacing in circles around their captive, an intimidation technique that he enjoyed employing, stopped and looked up at her entrance. 

“Darcy? What are you doing in here?”

“Little Darcy? So it wasn’t just Kelly and Annabelle that went on to work for the good guys, is it?”

“Shut up, Flash. Got into Kelly’s pants yet?” She took the seat across from him and flipped open the file on the table. “You realize that you were smuggling weapons for shapeshifting aliens, right?”

“Darcy!” Clint protested. 

“Go away, Barton, and let the expert do the talking. Flash?”

“Aliens?” Flash asked dubiously. 

“So, clearly you didn’t realize. Okay, so here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to tell us everything that you noticed, everything that you remember from your dealings with them, and then we’ll drop you off wherever you want. Cool with you?”

“That sounds good,” Flash agreed amiably. 

“Darcy! You know this guy?”

“What on earth gave it away?” Darcy deadpanned. “And you totally owe me a favour, Flash.”

“Why don’t we just take the time that you got me to impersonate a gay German art dealer and call it even?”

“I don’t owe you for that, Kelly and Annabelle do,” Darcy said. “And I have a feeling that you’d rather have a favour from them than me, anyway.”

She flipped the folder closed. “How’re the twins?”

“Good,” Flash said, a faint smile on his face. “They’re graduating this year, Head Girls, both of them. Miss Fritton knew better than to separate them for anything.” Darcy grinned. 

“They’re going to hit the gates of that school, and they’re going to take the world by storm.”

“Of course. Is it crazy that I am so bloody proud of them that it makes my head spin?”

“No, of course not,” Darcy said.

“And not just them, either,” Flash added. “All of you. The lot of you are like a massive group of little sisters to me—except Kelly and Annabelle,” he tacked on, “but the rest of you—you were the ones that society said weren’t good enough. They didn’t want you and they sent you away and refused to accept you. But you made it anyway. You all made it, every single one of you. Crikey, look at you, Darcy Lewis! You made it! Come ‘ere,” he added, standing up. Darcy did the same and walked over to him, and Flash pulled her tightly against his chest.

Clearly, Clint had hit the end of his rope. He tugged his girlfriend away from Flash and stared at them. “Darcy, this man is a small time criminal of epic proportions,” he protested. 

Darcy looked at Flash and burst out laughing. 

“Hey, D, you still distill that scotch in your bathtub? That shit was so popular, you wouldn’t believe what it sold for—“

“Oh, I believe it,” Darcy drawled. “I saw the profits, didn’t I?”

“You distilled scotch in the bathtub and sold it under the table?” Clint asked incredulously.

“Baby, you don’t know the half of it.”

Everyone just stared as Darcy led Flash out of the interrogation room and down the hall, Clint trailing behind them, looking like a kicked puppy. “Lewis, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Springing an old friend.”

“Lewis!”

“He didn’t know that he was double dealing with those aliens, Hill, and he told us everything that he knew already, which wasn’t much. You can’t keep him, his record is Interpol, not us. And Coulson said last month when someone was whining about Deadpool that when it isn’t our jurisdiction, it isn’t our problem. It’s Interpol’s problem if they’re too incompetent to catch him.”

It was only much later, when Darcy had sent Flash on his way that Clint got the whole story.

“Where did you know that guy from?”

“High school.”

“You went to some upscale all girls British boarding school or something, though, didn’t you?”

“Or something,” Darcy answered. “St. Trinian’s sounds like an upscale British boarding school, but it isn’t. By a long shot. It’s the worst rated school in the country. And Flash was our bookie. He’s head of the board of directors, on paper, so that he has a reason to be hanging around all the time—Miss Fritton knows exactly what they’re up to, she doesn’t care. He sells their contraband on the black market. The twins, Tara and Tania, use the chem. Labs to brew this vodka—that shit can kill. It has killed. And he bets on stuff for them.”

“Wow.”

“My parents thought that they were sending me to some upscale, snooty British boarding school, but they were very wrong.” Darcy sighed. “They were sending me home. And Miss Fritton was more of a parent to me than either of my real parents were ever interested in being. She may not care about stupid pranks and hazing, and she may not take notice that her head girls are brewing vodka in the chemistry labs, but that woman would go to hell and back for any one of us when we needed it. I think it’s the same for most of the other girls. I know for sure that Annabelle’s father is a complete douchebag, but Miss Fritton is her aunt, so at least she has some family that cares.”

“Sounds like you had... an eventful high school career,” Clint ventured, putting his arm around her. 

“Eventful is one word for it,” Darcy agreed, leaning into him. Honestly, though, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> This is another installment in my St. Trinian's universe, where Darcy is an ex St. Trinian's girl. I haven't decided which clique she was a part of yet, but I was thinking that maybe she never fit into any of them? I've also considered making her Annabelle's successor, which would make her one year younger than Annabelle/Celia/Chelsea and all of the older girls in the second movie, and two years younger than Kelly/Polly/Chloe/Peaches/Taylor/Andrea... so on. But she could be in Kelly's year (which would mean that she wasn't there for the events of the second movie), or in Annabelle's year, which would mean that she was.


End file.
